Operation Cheer Up Fredbot
by heartlines
Summary: Freddie feels bad and Sam cheers him up with smoothies, Fatcakes, and swinging. iBalls Missing Scene.


**A/N: Hi! I'm back with my second story. I want to thank you all for your kind reviews on my last story. I loved the episode iBalls and thought it had some great Seddie development but still, it left me craving for more Sam/Freddie moments. So I wrote this. :)**

Freddie watched Spencer riding on the back of his assistant. Just when he thought the guy couldn't possibly get any weirder…

He looked at Sam, also watching Spencer and Marty, and decided he couldn't be here anymore. It was bad enough that he majorly failed at being creative and funny. But that he had to fail in front of her of all people. Like she wasn't already back to thinking he was a lame nub, the one chance that he had to really prove himself to her and he blew it.

"I'm going to go," he said, standing up.

"Wait." Sam stood up as well. "Let's go get some smoothies."

He looked at her. "Why?"

"Because I want one." She looked at him with a 'duh' expression. "And because if I let you go home now you'll probably cry yourself to sleep."

She walked past him and grabbed her jacket off the coat rack then threw him his.

"Spencer, we're leaving!" She called out and opened the door.

Freddie trudged past her, feeling like he'd rather be alone to wallow in his misery and failure but he knew Sam well enough to know that she won't leave him alone until she gets what she wants. In this case, a smoothie.

"Are you gonna buy me smoothie?" He asked as they walked towards the elevator.

"Yeah, I don't feel that bad for you, Fredward."

Freddie smiled despite himself and Sam grinned.

"Finally!" She said. "I haven't seen you mope this much since that time I accidentally stepped on your laptop."

"Accidentally? Sam, you stomped on it! With both feet!"

She shrugged. "You ate the last of the ham."

"Yeah, the last time I ever did that," he muttered.

"See, you're trainable," she patted him on the shoulder.

The elevator opened in front of them just as Sam's cell phone started to ring.

"It's Carly," she told him and answered it. "Hey, Carls. You watch the show?"

"Yeah, I know, right? Baggles is a hit!"

Freddie sighed and leaned back against the wall. Yeah, everyone loved the sack of yogurt. He didn't miss the way that Sam moved to the corner of the elevator furthest away from him and started whispering into the phone.

The elevator doors opened and he walked out, Sam followed behind him and grabbed his arm. "Here, Carly wants to talk to you."

She held out her phone and Freddie looked at it. He knew Carly would be nice and comforting but that's the last thing he wanted right now. He didn't need Carly's sugar coated, well meaning pep talks when he knows deep inside she's probably disappointed. It's the same reason he can't face his mother right now. They want to make him feel better but their nicely worded lies just end up making him feel worse.

He shook his head at Sam and walked towards the lobby doors.

"He's in a bit of a mood right now, Carls. You should just call tomorrow," she said. "Well, I'll try but I'm no miracle worker. Whatevs, I'll talk to you later, bye."

Sam caught up to him at the door and hit his arm with her phone. "What was that?"

"I don't want to talk to her right now," he said, opening the door and holding it for her.

She raised an eyebrow. "Never thought I'd see the day that you would say that you don't want to talk to Carly."

"I just…She'll be…" He tried to explain as they walked.

"Carly," Sam finished.

"Yeah."

They walked in silence but it wasn't a bad kind of silence. It reminded him of the silences they used to share while they were dating. Freddie looked down at her hand, just hanging there looking all tempting, like it was just waiting for his own hand...

He shoved his own hands into his jacket pocket and looked away. He really shouldn't be thinking about stuff like this right now. Sometimes he wasn't sure if Sam actually had mind reading capabilities, even though he knew it was impossible. Like just a few minutes ago when she got what he was trying to say about Carly. She did stuff like that all the time and the last thing he needed was for Sam to use her freaky mind powers on him while he's thinking about holding her hand and how the moonlight and streetlamps catches her hair and makes it look like a golden color, forming a halo around her face.

Fortunately, they reached the Groovy Smoothie before he could get any further on that thought process. He could see all of the people inside through the glass door and he realized that he really didn't feel like facing anyone. He was embarrassed, he was ashamed, and he shouldn't have let Sam talk him into going out.

"Are you going to go in or what, Benson?" Sam asked, looking at him impatiently.

"I really don't feel like it," he said, pulling out five bucks from his pocket and holding it out to her. "Here, you can get a smoothie. I'll just go home."

Sam looked at the money and then at him. She sighed heavily and shoved his hand away. "Wait right here and don't go anywhere."

She walked into the shop and Freddie looked down at the money in his hand. She didn't take it, that had to be a first. He leaned against the window, not knowing what Sam was up to but he knew better than to go against her orders.

Sam came out a few minutes later, two smoothies in her hand. She handed him one and he stared at her.

"You bought me a smoothie?" He asked her incredulously.

"Come on," she said and started walking in the opposite direction from Bushwell.

"But…you didn't take my money."

"Benson, if you don't start drinking that before I finish mine, I'm taking it."

He took a sip of his smoothie. Strawberry Splat, his favorite.

"Thank -" He started to say but was stopped by her glare. He kept drinking his smoothie.

They kept walking and they were getting further and further away from Bushwell.

"Um, Sam? Where are we going?"

"We're almost there."

"That doesn't answer the question…"

"Shut up, Freddie."

They turned a corner and suddenly he knew where they were going. It was the park. He could already see it.

"Sam…" He started.

"Just keep walking," she said, without looking at him.

They crossed the street and they were there. Sam headed towards the swings and he followed behind. The last time they were here was about a week before they broke up. This park was halfway between Bushwell and Sam's house and she told him that she came here sometimes to think and just get away and be by herself. She'd brought him here a few days after their Pini's date and coming here just naturally became a part of their relationship.

What did it mean that she was bringing him here now? Freddie tried to control the hope rising in his chest.

Sam threw her empty smoothie cup into a trashcan and he followed suit with his. They headed towards the swings, their favorite spot, especially at night. She sat down in one swing and he sat down in the one beside her but facing the opposite direction, so that they were face to face.

"We, uh, haven't been here in awhile," he said.

Sam shrugged. "I have."

"You have?"

"I started coming here long before you, Benson. No reason to stop."

"Right," he looked away.

"Stop that," she said.

"Stop what? I'm not doing anything."

"That stupid long face you're making. You look like you just watched your puppy get run over. It's annoying."

"Well, I'm sorry if my humiliation annoys you, Sam," he said testily.

She rolled her eyes. "So you're not good at comedy, get over it. You're good at everything else!"

Freddie looked at her. "Why did you even let me do it after you read the script? You could have told me how much it sucked."

"And put a buzz on your excitement? It would have been like taking candy from a baby."

"You've done that."

"The baby wasn't eating it!"

He chuckled. Even when he was depressed and mad at himself, Sam could still make him laugh. He wished he had that talent.

"Besides, sometimes comedy isn't good on paper but the delivery makes the difference."

"You were giving me the benefit of the doubt?"

She shrugged.

He hung his head. "And I just failed completely. Writing, delivery, it all sucked. Good thing you had Baggles."

"It wasn't…that…bad…" She said in that same voice when he asked her if she'd rather do comedy with a sack of yogurt than with him.

He looked at her.

"It was bad," she relented. "But you have to stop moaning about it. So you're not a writer. You're perfectly fine in acting in stuff that Carly and I write. And you do all of the tech stuff by yourself. Just focus on what you're good at. Who are you trying to impress anyway?"

_You_, he thought, and looked down at his shoes.

"Fatcake?" She offered, holding one out to him while tearing the package of another one open with her teeth.

"You bought me a smoothie and now you're giving me a Fatcake? Wow, you really do feel bad for me."

"Don't push it, Fredweird. You want it or not?"

Freddie took the Fatcake. It was pity food yeah, but getting pity food from Sam was like getting a gigantic hug from other girls. He took a bite of the pink treat and while normally he found Fatcakes too sweet and sugary for his taste, for some reason this particular Fatcake tasted…perfect.

He hadn't even begun to savor the taste though before the Fatcake was snatched out of his hand.

"Hey!" He looked over to the blonde girl beside him to see her shoving the half Fatcake into her mouth.

"You eat too slow," she said while chewing. "I finished mine and I was still hungry."

He shook his head and laughed. Same old Sam. He took hold of the chain of her swing and lifted his feet off the ground, letting himself swing gently.

"Contest?" She asked.

"What do you have in mind?"

"We swing and see who can jump the farthest."

"I don't know, that sounds dangerous…"

"I'm sorry, Marissa," Sam smirked. "I thought it was your son that I invited out here."

"Don't be vicious," he quipped.

"Come on, Benson. Live a little."

"Yeah, live a little and die young," he grumbled under his breath. But apparently not quietly enough because Sam was grinning at him and Freddie knew he was doomed. He'd do whatever she wanted him to do.

That was the thing about Sam. Carly had her classic 'Please, for me?' move but Sam, who was completely unaware of her own feminine wiles and how to utilize them in the same way that Carly does, also had a way of making Freddie Benson bend to her will. All she had to do was smile at him. That complete, unguarded smile that made her eyes light up (with plans of evil schemes behind them, no doubt) and Freddie was putty in her hands. It was a fact of life that Sam seemed to remain clueless to and he had no intention of ever informing her of it.

"How do we do this?" He asked.

Sam's grin widened further in her triumph and she gestured for him to stand up and turn around, which he did.

"Okay," she said once he had settled down beside her. "We swing as high as we can and then we jump but we have to do it the same time."

It still sounded unsafe to him but Freddie held his tongue and nodded.

They began swinging and he found himself gaining height very quickly. He had the advantage of having longer legs which gave him more swing power but Sam more than made it up for it in strength and willpower and they were soon swinging in a perfectly synchronized way, their legs stretching out in front of them at the same time, gaining more and more height.

The wind in his face was cold, it was making his eyes sting, his lips chap, and he wished he had zipped up his jacket because the chill was penetrating very easily through his two shirts. But as he looked at the girl swinging beside him, her long hair fanning out behind her, and her laughter ringing out in the empty park, Freddie had never felt so alive. Well, except for when he was kissing her.

"On three!" Sam yelled. "One!"

"Two!" He called back.

"Three!"

They jumped. Freddie landed on his feet but the force of the landing knocked him to his knees. Sam stumbled beside him and fell against him, knocking him flat on his back while she landed on his chest. They were both laughing hysterically, the rush of the jump pumping blood rapidly through his veins, making him feel giddy and alive.

Freddie's laughter died down as he realized that Sam was on top of him, her chest pressed flush against his, her face only inches from his, and they haven't been in this position in a long time. Far too long.

He reached up and pushed her hair behind her ear and Sam's laughter abruptly stopped. Freddie could have sworn that her eyes went to his lips but then she had her hands on his chest and was pushing herself up and away from him. He felt an acute sense of loss as the warm weight of Sam's body lifted from his chest and he sat up too.

She had pulled her legs up to her chest and was hugging her knees, making her look strangely small. No matter how many times he bared witness to it, it still surprised Freddie that his blonde firecracker of a best friend could have these moments where she's so…still.

"So, who won?" He asked.

Sam turned her head away from him, pressing her cheek against her knee. "No one, Fredward. No one won," she said softly.

She wasn't talking about the swing competition and Freddie knew that this was it. The opening he'd been looking for to finally talk about their relationship and where they stood now.

_Come on_, he thought. _Say something brilliant, something that will win her heart back._

But Freddie had never been very good at improvising, yet another quality that made him a poor webshow host. He opened his mouth, closed it, and Sam finally looked at him again, her eyes more blue than he'd ever seen before.

A small smile graced her features, not reaching her eyes and she was standing up. The moment had passed, Freddie knew.

"Come on, it's getting late," she said. "Your mom will have a conniption."

He rose to his feet. "Since when do you care about my mom's well being?"

"Oh, I don't. But I think her poor therapist has enough to deal with."

"You coming back to Bushwell?"

Sam made a face. "And be around Spencer and his weird assistant? Nah, I think I'll just head home for the night, Fredly."

He nodded, digging the toe of his new 'robot' shoes into the dirt. It had been a horrible night but he didn't want it to come to an end.

Sam punched his shoulder lightly. "Chin up, Fredbot," she said and he couldn't help laughing. "Go work on that 3D stuff. I bet the solution is just staring you right in the face. Use some creativity and figure it out."

He smiled at her. "Good advice."

"Mama has her moments. Now go," she pushed him. "I'm sick of you."

She started walking in the direction of her house and Freddie stared after her.

"Hey, Sam!" He called after her. She turned around. "See you tomorrow."

"Maybe," she said but even from this distance he could see her smile.

He started walking in the opposite direction, back to Bushwell, feeling lighter than he'd thought he'd ever be capable of feeling again when he walked away from the webcast. And to think that only two hours had passed. But if Sam Puckett was good at anything, it was taking his emotions and tossing them from one extreme to the other.

She was right though, he should focus on the things he's good at. So maybe he won't be impressing Sam, or anyone else for that matter, with his comedic skills. He could still do creative stuff behind the camera and _with_ the camera.

Later that night, after hours of tinkering with his camera and hair pulling, after his fifth cup of coffee, he finally got it. Sam was right, the solution was staring him right in the face all along and now he had it, 3D effects without the glasses. He immediately called Sam, his excitement bubbling over as he danced around the room.

"What," she answered groggily.

"I did it, Sam! I did it! The 3D effects work!"

"Freddie, it's four in the morning," she said, her voice thick with sleep.

"Oh," he looked at the clock. "I didn't realize it was that late or…early."

"I'm going back to sleep," she grumbled.

"No wait! I don't want to wait until next week to premiere this. Can we do a special broadcast tomorrow or tonight, rather?"

"Benson, if you don't let me go back to sleep I'm going to pound you with your camera."

"Please, Sam?"

"You're not writing the sketch," she said.

"No no! I'm leaving the writing all up to you. And I have to handle the camera so it'll be you and Gibby."

Sam groaned. "This just gets better and better. Fine, come over here at noon and you better bring double breakfast and lunch."

Freddie pumped his arm in victory and did a dance that he was very glad Sam couldn't see. "Yes yes, all the bacon you can eat, I swear."

"And stop dancing around. You look stupid."

Freddie froze. "How did you know?" He looked around, fully expecting to see a hidden camera somewhere.

Sam laughed. "I'm going back to sleep."

"Yeah, sorry for waking you up," he said, sitting down on his bed.

"Make it up to me with food or you will be sorry."

"Good night, Sam. Or good morning."

"Bye nub."

"And Sam?"

"What now?"

"Thanks."

"Whatevs."

Freddie put his phone down on his nightstand and lay down but he couldn't wipe the grin off his face. So maybe the night hadn't started out so great, at the end of it he'd finally made his 3D effects work and he felt like he'd made strides in his relationship with Sam. Life was good.


End file.
